Condemned
by FrankandJoe3
Summary: Dick and Wally are just the new sidekicks at the Hall. When the end of the world comes around, the fate of humanity falls into their hands. Can they save the world before it's too late?
1. Chapter 1

**Yeah, I already tried this, but I'm going to fix it up and maybe it'll be better. I want to make every day a certain day. Monday is my personal day, Tuesday is YDK, Wednesday might become the day for new experiments if this doesn't kick off, tomorrow I'm working on my dirtbike story then Friday is my Sleepover story day. Saturday and Sunday are extras. Damn, not even 14 and I'm on a schedule. –Depressing- Anyway, I'm testing on POVs, so tell me what ya think. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the game I based this off of or YJ… etc… YOU AIN'T GONNA MAKE IT IN THESE STREETS LIKE FROGGER. **

**Dick's POV:**

My name is Dick Grayson. I was an ordinary American six months ago. I imagine I lived in a one story house with my mom, dad and a little sibling whose guts I hated. I imagine I used to always play videogames; when I wasn't playing football that is. I probably broke a lot of hearts and I probably had a lot of friends who I liked to make fun of. That's all in my imagination though. That might've all happened over six months ago, but it isn't six months ago anymore. No, it's the end of the world.

Someone screwed up. I can't just point fingers until you're entirely caught up, but this someone screwed up so bad that life as you know it will come to a literal stand-still. I tried to stop them and save the world, but all that did was get me tied to a tree trunk next to the only person I could actually trust and a complete traitor, the men getting closer and closer, their knives out in front of them, ready for their first meal in what seemed like months.

I'm about to spaghetti'd basically, if you didn't take the hint. Maybe if I could actually remember something, I'd know how to save my ass and beat the cannibals down, but everything before the past six months isn't even a blur to me. It's as if someone just gave birth to a thirteen year old me and left my fully clothed and clean body on that beach to be found. Oh, I'm getting ahead of myself. I suppose I should start about six months ago, right when I got myself in this mess…

**Okay, short beginning, but… Do you like the first POV? I'm not good at it, but I could try! And if you like the idea, should I switch POVs so you hear Wally's side too or what? Whatever you want… if you like the idea. I guess… Just give it a chance…? **


	2. Chapter 2

**Yeah, of course these will be longer. I hate short chapters. Last chapter was a technical prologue. I really want to finish this, so I hope it catches wind or something. Anyway… agh… Today was just bitching. Can't wait 'til Friday night! (:**

**Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING~**

**Dick's POV:**

When I woke up for that small window of less than sixteen seconds, I tried to look around. The world shifted and spinned and hopped around like a bunny on crack while it lasted. I think I saw a beach of some sort. The sand was white and very soft. It was soothing and comforting and cradled me like a huge temperpedic bed, making me aware of how warm it was on the beach. It had to be at least 90 degrees. The sun covered me like a big warm blanket and I couldn't keep my eyes open much longer. My eyelids felt like someone had tied anchors to them. When my head hit the sand, I could've sworn I heard waves crashing against the shore somewhere, and that was all it took to put me out.

**Wally's POV: **

The building loomed over me threateningly. The stone walls were hard and rough as they stood in their white glory; the golden door shone brilliantly like a fresh new pile of gold underneath the arc of the rainbow; the red carpet that lined its steps seemed to threaten me, saying "Hey- newbie, don't even think of putting your normal shoes on me. I'll shank you if you even try". Okay yeah, it sounds stupid right? I don't really know how to describe it. I'll just dumb it down: it's a big white stone building, two stories at least, tall windows and a pretty door, and a huge long red carpet going up the staircase. Sounds fancy right? If you don't think so, get your brain checked.

So, why am I telling you about this freakin' awesome building? Well, this building is where my life is going to begin. It's where I belong, you know? It's where I was born to go! Where to start?

Well, first off, my name is Wally West. I'm 15 years old which means I have a driving permit, but a 2012 white Ford Mustang GT cost 22,310 dollars, and if you haven't guessed, I don't have that kind of money.

Now, second off, this big ole' building is the one and only Hall of Justice. It's where the best of the best end up. Anybody who's really anybody has a statue in there and my dream is to get my statue up there for the world to marvel at. I don't want the lame ass concrete statue either. I want something in white marble, except for my eyes. I want my eyes to be little emerald diamonds just because in the future I'll be that awesome.

To get my statue up there though, I first have to get the balls to actually go in and sign up to be a sidekick. Now, don't get me wrong, I _do _have balls, just not the mental strength kind. My ex-best friend walked in one time for about five minutes and ran out sobbing. I called him a pussy for it, we got in a fist fight, I kicked his ass and he said we weren't friends anymore so… Don't I just have a wonderful way with people? Yes, that was sarcasm if you couldn't tell.

Today though was MY day. I'd been building up the courage for months now to go in and sign up, but now, I couldn't even walk through the door. My stomach felt like all seven of the little Snow White midgets, or were they dwarves? Were there even seven? Let's see, we got Happy, Dopey… heh, Dopey… And Sleepy, Grumpy… Screw that, I'm not going to think about stupid Disney midgets. Let's rephrase my original sentence: _My stomach felt like… _uh… it hurt, how about that? Is that specific enough for you? I, the great Wally West, was scared to go into a building. I admit it. Feel free to stop smirking anytime now.

I was ready though. Tomorrow, I was going to have a kick-ass sidekick name. I was going to be walking along the "top bitches" of the Justice League in a few days time. At the end of the week, everyone would know the wonder that was Wally West! I wouldn't be "that ginger kid" or "the tall kid" anymore. I'd actually be somebody now! That's all it took to give me that little courage boost that I needed. I took a deep breath, which was as effective as running a hose over an ocean, and shakily pushed open the golden door, thanking God that it wasn't a "pull" door.

The inside of the building was a lot more awesome than the outside, obviously. The statues were huge, but I couldn't see half of them because of how high up they were. The statues seemed to go down the wall in a slow spiral, the first superhero on top dating all the way down to the newbie, some wannabe Superman who didn't seem to be able to smile. So basically, he looked like Superman and acted like Batman. I didn't really care about him though. I was practically tripping balls excited now to see my statue hanging up on the wall. That's all I really focused on; that and the desk in front of me.

Some weird green guy sat there, working on homework of a sort. He didn't really seem to notice me, but I wasn't sure if I wanted him to.

_Man up West! You've already gotten this far. Just a little bit farther_ I thought angrily.

I closed my eyes tightly and tried taking another deep breath. It still didn't help though. When I opened my eyes, I noticed that the green guy was looking at me. I might've overreacted a little when I practically jumped out of my skin, but hey, he looked like an alien. You would've screamed too. He didn't seem bothered though.

"And you are…?" he asked nonchalantly in a thick accent that I didn't recognize.

I forgot how to speak for a moment. When I finally remembered, it was a weak stutter that I'm ashamed to admit came from me.

"W-W-Wally W-We… We-West…" I think was along the lines of what I said.

It probably wasn't even that understandable, but hey, you know you've had a day like that too, so don't go poking fun at me. To make it worse, his eyes seemed to be burning into where I supposed my soul was. Normally, that would've been fine, but you didn't see his eyes. There weren't any pupils! It was just red! For all I know, he could've been preparing a laser! He had originally been looking down. He could be preparing to turn me into charcoal!

"No thanks," he said, his tone bored and expressionless.

His eyes turned back to the paper. I jumped a little.

"N-No?" I repeated, scared sick.

He didn't look up from the paper.

"Goodbye," he dismissed me, quite rudely if you ask me.

You know that feeling you get when you've been in love with someone forever, but you're afraid to tell them, and then you see them with someone else? If you haven't, I'll describe that pain to you. It feels like someone slipped a balloon into your heart; at first, you can't believe what you're seeing is real and you can feel someone blow up the balloon. When you know for a fact that they're with that someone else, someone pumps lead into that little balloon, weighing it down in your chest. When you see how happy they are, it's like someone slipped a stick of dynamite in there and blew out everything in your chest until all that's left is just whatever's left of the balloon. If you've felt it, you know I'm not dramaticising in the slightest.

That's kind of how I felt right there. He didn't add a "just kidding" or "I'm just teasing you". He just told me to get out basically. I kind of regretted calling my friend a pussy because I felt like breaking down and sobbing right there, but I didn't. I don't know why I didn't because I bet if I had, maybe the man would've reconsidered. Instead of sobbing though, I kind of just turned around and slowly left awkwardly. I didn't know what else to do. My whole life, this was the only thing I had waited for and he hadn't even considered me. I had suffered 15 years, not one of them being a good year in my opinion, only to be told I had suffered for nothing? You know what? That's just not fair!

That's when I kind of went hysteric. I lost my mind in that one second and for some reason, I was sure that the only thing left to do was off myself on the Hall's steps just to make them feel bad. I didn't necessarily want to die there though. I didn't really know how I would either. I didn't own a gun, I couldn't climb up the building because of the walls, our family tossed out all things sharp after my Dad… er, you don't need to hear about that. It's not important and it would only upset you. Point is, I was positive I had nothing left to live for so I didn't want to live for nothing, or something like that.

I probably would've normally gone home and angrily beat down the telephone pole down the street that was missing its wires with my baseball bat until I broke something either on the pole or myself. I wasn't feeling normal though. In my head, the only thing I could think to do was head down to the beach and just start walking into the ocean until either the mermaids initiated me as their pimp or I drowned.

XxXxX

So, I'm a guy, as you know. Guys aren't supposed to call things beautiful, unless it's a girl, a nice food plot or a nice rack, by which I'm referring to deer. That's what my Uncle Mike taught me at least. He wasn't the smartest car in the garage, but he knew some things I suppose. Among those things he did know wasn't the fact that you can die by breathing in tailpipe exhaust for a long while. Let's just say Dad and Uncle Mike are probably burning down deep at the moment together. Sorry, I got off topic again, but as I was saying, there are only certain things we can call beautiful without being called gay because the person who wrote up the definition of gay is a jackass.

I'm not ashamed to say that I think the ocean is beautiful though. Sure, it isn't a hot babe strolling down the beach in a slutty bikini and it isn't a nice buck that'd look nice up on my living wall, but it has an element that messes with me a little. The color of the distant waves as the setting sun strikes them, the roaring sound of the waves crashing out far in the distance, the faint little sparkles as they redirect the sun's rays, the little fish you can see the silhouettes of underneath the waves… If the ocean was a woman, or even a man for that matter, I'd date them no matter what the rest of the world had to say. With my luck though, if the ocean was a person, they'd be anti-ginger just like everyone else I know.

Lovely thoughts right? Want to hear an even lovelier one? I was kind of considering writing a suicide note. It'd probably be like, _Hi, my name is Wally West and I'm going to kill myself because my mom is a drunk whore and the world just isn't on my side anymore. I want all of my belongings burned to ashes, same with my money. If I hear that anyone gave anything of mine to my mom, I swear I will haunt you and ruin your life until you off yourself too. See you all in Hell! _See, aren't I lovely? I knew I wasn't going to write it because I knew I wouldn't kill myself. I'd get about to my knees in the water before I pussied out and ran back home and started yelling at my mom like always. Not my fault that God messed up on her.

I didn't even get to my knees though. I hadn't even slid off my shoes when I stopped. I didn't chicken out though. I stopped because on the beach, not much more than twenty feet from me, was a dead body.

**So… alright, here comes the question that usually pisses people off: can I have some KF/Rob or is that off limits in a story like this? Anyway, sorry if I suck at writing for Wally. I tried thinking of how he would think, and failed. And you'll hear more about his parents in way later chapters if you like this story long enough… Review? It sure would make my day~**

**-Fransesca Annabelle Josephina the third (FJ3)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay… this is my favorite story to update, by far. Maybe it's because it's first person… It's a challenge to me I guess, but I love it so…**

"**Everybody turn around, to the sound of my breaking heart." "Light a match under my paper heart…"**

**Dick's POV:**

I never thought that when you pass out that you dream. I figured that unconsciousness and sleep were two totally different things in general. I know that when you're asleep, you're technically unconscious, but passing out is a different story, right? Wait, why does it matter? All points aside, I had a dream on the beach.

It was a weird dream to say the least. I was hanging off the side of a cliff. It had been storming something awful because I remember I was soaking wet and I was on edge because of the thunder. I remember there was a girl above me. I couldn't see her face because of how dark it was, but in between the flashes of lightning, I could see she was terrified. She was holding my hand, trying to keep me from falling. The rain made her hands so slippery though, and I couldn't hold on.

"_Please Dick! Just hold on a minute longer!" _she sobbed.

Well, I think she had been sobbing. Either that or there were a few random drops of rain that were a bit slower than the rest of it. She reached out another hand and wrapped it around my wrist, tugging harder.

"_I can't hold on! I'm going to fall!" _I remember screaming.

I remember searching the cliff side for a foot hold or something like that, but it was just straight down and there was nothing to grab a hold of. I remember her hands sliding off mine.

"_Roy will be here any second! Don't let go! I need you!" _

I remember that I started to cry, but I hid it. I remember calling her name and feeling her eyes on mine, but I don't remember her name.

"_I have to let go," _I remember saying quietly. _"Save the world for me?"_

And then I remember pulling my hand from hers and screaming as I fell through the air. Then I heard a voice.

"Hey!"

The voice wasn't in the dream though. In fact, it was that voice that woke me from the dream. That and two hands that shook me back and forth madly. I grunted weakly to tell whoever it was that was bothering me that I was awake.

"Thank… oh my…" I heard a relieved sigh and the shaking stopped. "You're alive!"

I opened my eyes, only to see a bright blue sky. Didn't I pass out with my face in the sand?

"Where…" I started to mumble, but somehow, I managed to forget how to speak.

I weakly looked around. To my right was the ocean. It didn't look too fancy to me. It was just water after all. To my left was… well, it was a guy. He didn't look quite 18 and he looked older than 12. I wanted to say he was 16, but he didn't look like the type of person that I'd trust behind the wheel of a car, so I decided 15 would be appropriate. He was kind of cute too. Er- I mean, it's just- if I was a girl, I'd think he was cute… He had messy red hair that hung down in his emerald eyes. It might've been just my angle, but his eyes had to be the most beautiful shade of green that existed. He had a billion or so freckles, just on his face, and he was almost pale enough to be considered a vampire. Or, if you were too lazy to read all of that, he was a mildly attractive ginger.

The part that gave him the 'mildly attractive' in his title was the look he had on his face. He was worried, for some odd reason. His green eyes were filled with fear and his eyebrows were turned down and all of the other stuff that goes with being worried.

"Are you okay?" he asked, the worry in his voice equal to that on his face.

I blinked slowly and nodded. I felt hung over almost, or at least what I imagined a hang over would feel like.

"Yeah… w-where… am I?" my tongue felt heavy in my mouth and I noticed my speech was slurred.

I didn't really feel all too surprised at the thought of being drunk though. He didn't seem to care though.

"You're in Gotham," the boy told me, but he sounded as if he was telling it to a pre-schooler, not me.

I couldn't help but notice that I unconsciously glanced down at my chest just to make sure I wasn't a pre-schooler. Don't worry, I wasn't, and I'm still not one.

"Gotham?" my eyebrows furrowed.

I turned and attempted to sit up. My body hurt so much that I'm surprised I even managed to sit up the few inches I did before wincing in pain. The ginger noticed. He took my hand and helped me to my feet carefully, putting his other hand to my back to, or at least I assume, keep me from falling.

"You're in New York," he rephrased himself, studying me carefully. "How'd you end up down here?"

I opened my lips to reply, but close them when I found that I didn't remember. My mind was blank. I ran a hand over my hair.

"I…" I looked hard at the ocean, as if that might spark a memory, but it did nothing, "I have… no idea."

The boy seemed surprised, but he recovered fast.

"Well, uh, what _do _you remember?" he asked instead.

I blinked slowly, thinking. What did I remember? I remembered the dream and him. That was it. Where did I live? Who were my parents? What was my birthday? Who's the president? Wait… who cares who the president is? Politics are for those who can vote.

"I'm… thirteen… and I woke up on a beach," I offered, shrugging.

His green eyes widened in surprised.

"An amnesiac?" his surprise faded to amusement, "Awesome!"

It was my turn to be surprised, but I shook it off fast. I held up my arms, looking over them for bruises or any tags of identification, doing the same with my legs and chest. All I discovered was that I was pale, I had bruises on my left arm and a blood stain on my Fritz' shirt. What the Hell is a Fritz? **[1] **I looked back at the ginger. He still seemed amused.

"Well, do you remember your name?" he asked.

I frowned hard. In the dream, the girl had called me 'Dick', but for all I know, she could've just been insulting me. She said it more than once though, and she didn't say it rudely… Man, my parents must've been complete assholes. Who names their child Dick? Maybe I'm being a little hard of them. Maybe it's like that country song, "A Boy Named Sue" which is about a dad who names his son Sue. It's actually kind of funny… Oh great, I knew country songs. Damnit. I hope I wasn't a hick. **[2] **

"Uh yeah, I _think _my name is Dick…" I admitted.

Now, if you're wondering why I'm telling this stranger everything… well, I'm wondering it to. He doesn't look like a rapist though, and he seems nice enough, but all rapists are probably nice at first. I guess I just trust him because he cared enough to wake me up when he didn't know me. He snickered.

"Really? Your name is _Dick_?" he asked, grinning ear to ear.

I couldn't help but smile. "Like I said, I _think_. Not like you have a better name though."

I hoped he got the hint. Lucky for me, he wasn't as stupid as he looked.

"The name's Wally," he introduced himself, holding out his hand.

I took it and we shook on it, or however you'd say that.

"My name could be Kelly or Betty Ann. _Anything _is better than 'Dick'," he teased.

I laughed softly, wincing as I did. I tried to play it off though by wrapping an arm around my pained and bleeding stomach.

"I don't know, what about Gina?" I argued.

It took Wally a moment, but when he got it, he smiled a knowing smile.

"Ha, yeah, I guess Gina's pretty bad, but Dick has it beat. Do you have a nickname or anything?"

I noticed he was eying my bleeding stomach, but he didn't comment on it so I didn't reply to that.

"No idea," I admitted. "What about you ginger? You got any nicknames?"

His eyes lit up and he moved closer, giving a strange expression that I guess he wanted to look seductive a sort. It failed.

"The ladies call me _Kid Flash_," he said from the deep of his throat, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

"More like Kid Mouth."

He grinned and took it as further encouragement. He backed up, his eyes still hovering on my stomach. It made me feel uncomfortable, but I wasn't going to just tell him to quit staring. I was already dissing on him. I didn't want to hurt his feelings. Then, before my eyes, he started running. It wasn't normal running though. His feet moved so fast that he became nothing but a red blur through the air. When he stopped in front of me, he grinned madly, a golden chain standing out against his neck.

"What do you think?" he asked me, smirking.

I figured that my expression would tell him, but maybe he just wanted to hear.

"Consider me amazed," I clapped weakly, stopping after two measly claps as the bruise I had noticed not too long ago began to ache.

It might've just been the sun, but I could've sworn he blushed slightly.

"Thanks man."

He opened his lips to continue, but the golden chain on his neck drove me mad. I had to ask about it, so I did, rudely cutting him off.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing to it.

He jumped, surprised at the interruption, before following my finger. When he noticed the chain, he slipped a finger under it.

"This?" he asked, surprised that I was asking about it.

I nodded. "Yeah, what's with it?"

He gestured me to come close, so I did. He lifted the golden chain from under his white shirt. On the end was a little heart. Basically, he had a golden locket. It looked like real gold too. It may seem a little girly, but if girls can play football and not be called lesbian then guys can wear lockets and not be called gay. He dug his nail into the crease and popped the heart open. On one side, there was a tall and muscular red haired man with a big grin on his face. He looked just like Wally. I couldn't help but smile.

It was the other side that made me grin. It was obviously Wally, but he looked about six or seven and he had a huge happy grin on his lips. He looked like he was in mid-laugh when the picture was taken.

"Obviously, it's a locket. It's my good luck charm. I got it for my seventh birthday from my da-…" he cut himself off, but I could tell he was going to say 'dad'. "It didn't work though. This thing has cruddy luck."

He kicked angrily at the sand. I knew it wasn't my business, but I could tell he wanted to talk about it, so I asked. He told me how he wasn't accepted into the 'Justice League', the place where all heroes get their start. I didn't really know how comfort him though. I mean, maybe if I was his friend at the time I would've put an arm around him and told him that he didn't need them and that he could be a superhero without them, but I'm guessing I had only known him for ten minutes at the time so I couldn't do that.

"Maybe he didn't understand that you wanted to be a hero?" I offered, trying to think on the bright side of things.

He didn't seem confused.

"No, I think he understood. I'm just a failure…" he seemed close to breaking down, but in a very bipolar-like way, he changed his attitude, "but you don't need to hear that! We should get you to the hospital, then the police station. You're stomach looks pretty bad and your parents are probably worried sick."

I smiled weakly. The idea didn't sound pleasing though. Just the thought of going to the hospital scared me a little. I was going to mention that, but this time, I got cut off because karma is a bitch.

"Hey- you the West kid?" I heard a Latino accent ask.

I turned my head. He wasn't Latino. He was white, with a sideways hat, a wife beater and pants that fell so low that I could see every inch of his blue checkered boxers. It wasn't attractive in the least, same with his accomplice. The guy was also white, but he was bigger and buffer than his scrawny friend. This guy was bald and looked like he was on steroids, big time. The part that scared me a little was the guns they had in their hands. I could tell Wally was scared by it too. His adorable worried face- agh, screw it. Yes, he's adorable when he's scared, as far as I know anyway. Who cares? LET ME LIVE MY LIFE!

… Where was I? Oh yeah, guys with guns. Well, they turned to Wally and pointed their guns on him. I don't know what I was thinking, but I stepped in front of him.

"Dick, what are you doing? Run," he whispered to me, his voice sounding surprisingly brave.

"I don't want to go to the hospital. I might as well die down here saving someone so I can go see if there really is a Heaven," I argued, "besides, my stomach stings too much. I can't run."

"Hey- blackie!" the Latino yelled to me, probably referring to my hair.

Gee, the world is full of a lot racists nowadays, huh? I glanced his way.

"You better run if you know what's good for you," he suggested.

I rolled my eyes. He seemed all talk. His partner on the other hand made me want to shit myself and run away screaming. That isn't really worth sharing though. And to make it worse, the steroid guy's eyes were two different sizes. The right one was bulged and a bright orange while the left was a red squint. And I'm pretty sure he had fangs. Yeah, it looks like Edward got mobbed by a group of anti-Edwards. I'm pretty sure I'd be in the crowd too, but I would've just taken his jacket and sold it on EBay for money.

"Good idea," I heard Wally say behind me.

Half of me expected him to run off and leave me alone to die. The other half got its bet though as he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder, turning into a blur, sand flying behind us as he ran.

"Who are those guys?" I asked, still scared sick.

I caught his gaze for only a second, but it was all I needed.

"Who cares? They had guns and one of them looked like a white-trash and vampire version of the Hulk!"

I just smirked. No need to argue with a guy with super speed, right? So I just closed my eyes and rested my chin against what I assumed was on of his shoulder blades.

**[1] Fritz is a restaurant down at Crown Center where the food is delivered by toy trains. It's AWESOME. My friend Bailey's grandma's took me and her down there and I got a train hat and a shirt! I love them! (They're lesbians, but they're 70, so it wasn't as awkward as I thought it'd be). **

**[2] I'm a hick, so to the other hicks, please don't take offense. The rest of the world is just jealous that they can't look sexy in cowboy and cowgirl hats and boots in public. And besides, we can say our **_**aint**_**s and **_**ya'll**_**s in public and not get called ungrammatical. **

**To those who know what this is based off of, I changed the beginning scenario. Yeah, I know, but I'm lazy and I don't want little Dickard and Wallard going up against gun guys in the… whatever chapter this is… Ha (; Well, love you all for the moment… so review if you would? Danke shoen meine Freunde! [thank you my friends]**

**-F.J.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay… so… yeah, I'm winging this. Just smile, nod, and love me for updating on the right day even though I have a horrid tooth ache. It's really bad too. Stupid 'power chain'… Stupid irrational fear of taking pills. Dude… In… PAIN!**

**Wally's POV:**

I was originally just going to continue from where Dick left off, but that little asshole hogged the whole chapter so I'm just going to have to start off the chapter by myself. -Yeah, that's right you jack-off, keep on glaring at me like that. That's gonna do you a _whole _lot of good.-

_Anyway… _I guess I should talk about Dick? I mean, he talked about me so I should do the same… I don't want to be a follower though. You know what, screw him. It was my idea originally before he decided to tell that part, so _he's _the follower! Sorry, it's the fear talking. Okay um, so yeah, I'll tell you about Dick.

So, first off, his eyes. They're _beautiful_. Maybe it's because I've always loved blue eyes, but they were the kind of eyes that you wanted to stare into all day, or at least until their owner would slap you for being a creep. He had black hair, but for some odd reason, it didn't look like it was originally black. I could see brown in the black. Although it would've been kickass if he was German or African American or Martian or something, he seemed as American as he could be, except for the fact that he was skinny and muscles. He was pretty short too, maybe five three, but it may help that I'm almost six foot, so everyone is short to me.

Alright there, I have described him. I could've gone all homo like Dick –damnit! That hurt you little prick!- Sorry, he decided to kick me. I bite my lip to keep from yelling at him during his chapter and I say one bad thing and he kicks me. How is that fair? Can I file for sexual abuse? No, of course not. -Alright screw it. Just wait until your chapter you little bitch. Kick me again and you won't have children!- You know what, I'm just going to get on with the story.

Alright, Dick mentioned the blood on his shirt, right? Yeah, he did. Well, when I finally saw the hospital coming up on top of the hill, that's when he decided to mention he was scared of hospitals. Pretty inconvenient right? I didn't really mind though. At the time, I had only known him for 10 minutes or so, and he was scared on a level between shitless and stiff. They practically mean the same thing on a level of fear, but hey, saying scared shitless sounds funnier. He wasn't quite the humorous kind of fear, but he wasn't the paralyzed kind either though.

The point is, he was scared. It was probably one of those awkward fears that everyone has. Mine is of driving behind a vehicle that has a horse trailer attached to the back. I mean, if that trailer became unhitched, not only would I be crushed, but I'd be crushed with a huge ass horse dick in my face. _No thank you_. So of course, I stopped on the side of the road and set him down.

"You okay?" I asked cautiously.

He nodded, but he didn't seem too sure about it. He lifted up his white shirt and looked down at his stomach. I noticed two things. 1- he had a huge cut over his stomach. It actually didn't look half bad, but it still covered a large section of him. 2- he had abs. He was like, what, 13? Maybe 14? He had a freakin' four pack. I won't focus on that though.

"Does this look bad?" Dick sounded uncertain.

I'm not a doctor, in case you haven't noticed, so I had no idea. I wanted to tell him that we should go into the hospital that was about fifty yards away, but he probably wouldn't have unhitched a horse trailer in front of me while I was driving… at the moment anyway… so I didn't mess with his fears.

"Not really," I decided to say, maybe just to make him feel better. "Maybe we should- er, you should get a bandage on that?"

Dick studied it closer for a moment, but shook his head and adjusted the shirt over his jeans again.

"Why don't we head to the Hall of Justice? Superheroes are supposed to be all helpful… maybe if I ask them to find out where my parents are, they'll let you and me stay with them and by the time they find out, they might just let you stay."

I blinked. Right then and there, I decided even if he was a 50 year old shape-shifting pedo, I'd be completely fine with it.

"I hope you live nearby," I said honestly, "me and you could conquer the world."

He smiled shyly. "How do you know I'm not just trying to gain your trust so I can kill you later?"

I gestured him to walk with me.

"Because if you were going to do that, you wouldn't tell me," I said simply.

He thought for a moment.

"What if I knew you'd say that so I told you so you'd lower your guard?" Dick challenged.

"I could kill you in my sleep," I smirked.

Most people I knew would turn away and shake their heads in shame, claiming they didn't know me and then punching me for not being original. He didn't though. In fact, he stopped me with his hand which he had in a gun formation, pointed to my throat.

"If that was real, you'd be dead," he informed me in a light monotone.

I shook my head weakly and knocked his arm down.

"For all you know, I'm made of adamantium. Your finger bullets can't hurt me."

He shook his head. "Impossible. If you were made of adamantium, a big copyright bar would be flying at us and Wolverine would show up and slit our throats for stealing his thing."

I laughed lightly.

"Who cares about copyrights anymore?" I pointed out. "Everything is stolen nowadays."

He hesitated before nodding lightly.

"Yeah… that's true…" his eyes scanned the city around us.

It was as if he had never seen a busy city street before. The stoplights and cars were all a wonder to him.

"Do you live around here?" he asked suddenly.

I raised an eyebrow, but shook my head.

"No, I live in Rhode Island with my mom," I replied. "Why?"

Dick's eyes avoided mine.

"The people here… they're… standoffish? Rude? They just… walk around us like we're not even here. It's… you don't act like them so I assumed…" he let his voice trail nervously, as if he didn't want to seem nerdy.

He actually didn't seem much of a nerd. He was like that boy on the football team who wanted to be on the Debate Team, but he didn't want to be picked on so he just kept pretending to be stupid to stay high in the popularity.

"Well yeah, good assuming."

We had almost began to walk in silence when he poked my shoulder to get my attention. I hate when people do that instead of just saying my name. With him though, for some reason, it wasn't so bad.

"You said you live in Rhode Island… and I think you told me earlier that this is New York. That's about four or more hours away, if I'm remembering right. And you're… fifteen? How'd you get here?"

At that moment, I began to think that maybe he asked too many questions. I didn't really care though. No one else ever cares enough to ask those questions. I put a hand to the back of my neck.

"Well… I ran away from home," I admitted.

I could see him jump from the corner of my eye.

"W-What? Why would you do that?" he asked.

_Why the Hell am I telling him?_ I began to wonder. _Oh yeah, because I can. _

"Uh… mom and me aren't the best of friends. She's been a bitch ever since… well, she's always been a bitch and there's only so much I can take."

I glanced over and this time, he actually looked at me.

"What about your dad?" he asked it slowly, so I think he had a slight idea of what I would've said if I told the truth.

"What about him?" I asked instead.

I didn't like talking about 'Daddy-Dearest'. I figured if I distracted him, he'd back off and change the topic. He actually took the hint though, way faster than I thought he would, and changed the topic.

"So… you ran here…" he thought aloud for a moment, "you can run really fast. Is that a…"

He coughed, embarrassed. I raised an eyebrow, rolling my hands over each other to tell him to continue.

"Is that a… super power?" he asked nervously.

I nodded. Of course it was a super power! You don't just learn to run at 80 miles per hour by taking Cross Country! He tensed up a little.

"Y-You have powers," he said it more of a question, but I'm choosing to put it as a statement because if I put it as a question, my laptop would call it a 'fragment' and I'd have to right click on it and hit 'ignore once', but after I put a period to end the saying, it'd get that annoying green line under it again.

"Yes, I have powers. If that surprises you, hold onto your boring white socks when we get to the Hall," I suggested.

He unconsciously glanced down at his socks, frowning at them.

"They are boring…" he sighed.

I shrugged, glancing up. I saw the Hall not too far ahead and I felt my stomach twist itself into a pretty pink and fleshy bow. I elbowed Dick weakly in the side of his arm. His head snapped up in surprise. I pointed forward. His eyes followed my finger and his eyes doubled in size.

"Whoa," he mumbled. "Feelin' the aster."

I raised an eyebrow.

"What the Hell is an aster?" I asked him, furrowing my eyebrows.

He shrugged.

"I don't know. It just sounded right."

I shook my head, but it did sound like it could possibly mean something good. Dick seemed to have some serious balls of steel as he climbed the steps fearlessly. It could help that he had no idea what was in the Hall, but I still give him some serious credit. He pushed open the doors and stepped inside. I followed. That was when he froze, but it wasn't because of the green guy behind the counter. No, he was staring up at the statues. To be specific, he was staring at Batman. It was the first time in the whole probably 20 minutes now that I had known him that I had seen recognition on his face.

"**And Mysterion can… what's your super power Mysterion?"**"I can't die."**"Oh yeah, good one. Mysterion can't die, and Iron Maiden is indestructible and…"**"No, Stan, I'm serious. I really, really _can't _die!"** "…What?"**"Like last night in the alley! The cult leader stabbed me! There was blood all over the place! And you screamed 'Oh my God' and _you _called them bastards!"_**"… When was **_**that**_**?"**_"_All the time! _I die all the time! And you assholes _never _remember!" **"… I think we would remember you dying, dude."**"Well you don't! I die over- and over- only to wake up in my bed like nothing happened!"**"Dude! You're freaking out Mint Berry Crunch. He just peed his pants."**** "No, no! Mint Berry Crunch never pees his pants!" **"I knew there'd be no point in telling you guys."_**"A-Alright dude, let's just say you're not crazy and it's true. What's the big deal? I think it'd be pretty cool to not be able to die."**_"_Pretty cool? _Do you know what it feels like to be stabbed? Shot? Decapitated? Torn apart? Burnt? Run over?"**"Kenny! Kenny, calm down!"**"It's not 'pretty cool', Kyle. It _fucking _hurts! And it won't go away and nobody will believe me! Remember this time; try and _fucking _remember! *shoots himself in the head*"

**I believe you Kenny. I notice when you die. I want to save you every time, I want to wear your jacket and walk around so Death will try to kill me instead of you. I want to videotape a death and show it to Stan and Kyle. **_**I'd **_**make them remember. Kenny FTW. Anyway, sorry for the late update. I really didn't want to update. So uh, review? I guess. **

**-FrankandJoe3**


	5. Chapter 5

**Alright, here's a 'fun' before note… Mom's taking me to the hospital after this. Apparently, the uncomfortable awkward pain (that I won't type about because a dude reads this) isn't a normal thing for women to feel… So… Ouch. I have to take pills. I can't take pills. **

**Disclaimer: I only own the words I type. I don't own what this is based off, or the show, or the couple… **

**Dick's POV:**

Wally's overreacting. I can't hit him that hard. I'm tied up for Pete's sake! I can only move my leg left and right, so I can't get momentum and my arm is bound to my side so I can't hit him either. I could rip his hand off or dig my nails into his arm, but I can't hit him. And I gave him the option to tell part of my chapter, but _he _wanted his own chapter. Forgive me for being a peace keeper! Anyway, let's continue from where Wally left off… Oh yeah, he was mentioning how I recognized… Batman, was it?

Well, I did. It wasn't the kind of recognition that came with a memory, but I wish it had. It was one of those, "Hey, isn't that guy in some movie I've seen before? He's so familiar" moments, except no one around you can tell you who he is because they haven't seen the movie. I knew his face. I could see him in my mind, except in my head, he wasn't wearing that strange get-up. He was a real person, not a superhero, or at least in the memory. I didn't know who he was at the time though. He was just a face on a statue.

The rest of the Hall was pretty impressive too. I mean, the floors were red and soft, the walls were bright… I don't know, I didn't really focus on it. My attention was on the… thing… sitting at the conference desk. I think it was a guy. It had green skin, pupiless red eyes, a bald head, a strangely shaped jaw… It was either a guy with a hideous skin condition or a Martian. I didn't want to suggest either. I just wanted to get out of there and ask Wally to take me to a police station or something.

"Können Sie mir helfen?" I was surprised to know I could speak German.

I'm pretty sure I asked 'Can you help me?', or something like that. It looked up at me slowly, his eyes scanning me slowly. He seemed to recognize me, but he made no comment on it.

"Ja, und ich kann Englisch sprechen," he replied simply.

Wally's eyes bugged. "What are you guys saying?"

I turned back to him, forgetting that he probably didn't speak German.

"I asked if he could help me," I began.

"And I said yes, and that I could speak English," it finished.

It had a male human voice, almost sounding like a black man, no racism intended. I'm just going to call it a him for now. Wally tensed up at the voice, but he played it off easily. I turned back to the green guy.

"Well good, that'll make things easier."

He still looked at me like he knew me though. It was as if I was a nephew of his or something. I doubted I was related to green guys though.

"Well… how can I help you Robin?"

I raised an eyebrow, looking on either side of me. Who the Hell was he talking about? There weren't any girls around us! Maybe he had me confused for someone else.

"Um… I think you have me confused for someone else," I said slowly when I noticed he was looking straight at me.

He blinked, furrowing his eyebrows. He kept staring at me, so I turned to face Wally.

"Who's Robin?" I mouthed to him, confused.

He hesitated, as if he had an idea, but he closed his lips and shrugged. It was like one of those moments when your best friend tells you they have a crush on someone who you know likes them back, but they made you promise not to tell so you can't even though you know it'll make both of them really happy. I didn't want to comment on it though.

"Alright… well… just head on back. I'll send someone to help you," the green man said, his voice losing interest.

I looked over at the door he had gestured to, hesitant. Wally grabbed my wrist and pulled me after him.

"Come on dude, we're actually going to get in!" he whispered.

His hand was warm and his grip was gentle, so I didn't mind. What I did mind was the robotic woman's voice that sounded when we got close to the door. Some huge blue ray shot out over me.

"Recognized: Robin," the robotic called out, a number following.

I glared at the source of the ray, a small square.

"My name's not Robin!" I cried furiously.

Why did this mean so much to me? Why did I care about my name? I just wanted to go home! Is that too much to ask? Wally tugged harder on my wrist.

"Don't yell at the machine. It looks weird," he told me lightly.

The door opened and Wally pulled me through, despite my weak struggling. I didn't want to go, but it was effort to fight back. On the other side of the door was a living room area. A skylight revealed the room to the public and also gave the room a nice lighting. The room was too comfy though. I didn't like it. I'm pretty sure I preferred smaller living rooms with dim lighting and a nice fireplace. I don't know for sure though. I just think. For all I know, I probably liked huge living rooms with six couches, a huge TV, two X-Boxes, a Wii, a huge dresser of movies, a foreign rug and huge open windows.

Wally let go of my wrist and collapsed in the huge red armchair in the room, grinning ear to ear, "I could get used to this…"

"Well don't," said a deep and gravelly voice.

The voice was one of the most familiar things I had heard all night. I knew it, but I couldn't identify it. I turned. Standing in the corner was the man who I had recognized as the statue, only he was real and had flesh colored skin. When his eyes turned to me, he got a strange look over his face. It was kind of hopeful to say the least.

"R-Robin…" that was all he said, but his eyes seemed to speak volumes.

I felt like he was a telepath, but Wally didn't really seem to notice what his eyes were saying. He seemed awestruck by Batman just standing there.

"You and the green guy up front must have me confused with someone else. My name is Dick, not Robin," I corrected him, trying not to sound as pissed as I really was. "I'm just here to figure out where my parents are."

Batman's face fell and he got the same secretive look over his face that Wally had earlier. I was getting sick of it.

"I found him down on the beach. He has amnesia," Wally spoke up shyly, his eyes practically sparkling in excitement.

The secretive look faded to relief for half a second before it faded back to a stern and determinate look.

"We aren't the police, kid. We don't help lost kids get back home. Get going," he turned around, aiming to leave.

"Wait!" I cried, catching myself off guard.

He stopped, looking back at me curiously. I didn't know exactly wait to say. I decided if there was ever a time to wing it, it would be now. His eyes burnt into mine, and for some odd reason, I did my best to return the look. I could feel his eyes acting like a barbed harpoon on my heart, but I cut the line and suffered.

"I can only remember the past… thirty minutes… of my life. All I know is that my name is Dick, I woke up on some beach and that every body in this place, besides Wally, has been calling me Robin! I don't want some dumbass cops," I ignored the glare he gave off at my word choice, "trying to help me figure out who I am! Wally told me that this place was awesome and that you guys could help me! All you have to do is take my fingerprints, run it through AFIS and find me!"

Batman looked like he wanted to bite my head off and beat it down. Some part of him restrained him though. I was thankful for it. I could tell that if he wanted to, he could kill me in a second. He then glanced to Wally, as if tempted to kill _him _instead of me, but he shrugged it off.

"Fine," he grumbled, but I could hear the fury in his voice.

He didn't want to help me and I could tell. I didn't want him to help me either. I knew how to find myself, but it'd be easier to have someone else do it for me.

"Come this way."

I offered Wally my arm. He grabbed it with his right and left hand and I yanked him to his feet. It seemed like a normal thing to do because he obviously didn't think twice of it. We exchanged glances before following Batman.

"Hey Dick," Wally whispered to me. "Who the Hell is AFIS?"

I just laughed.

_Dumbass. _

**Fin. End. Ouch. Done. AFIS is… well, it's a program that runs your fingerprints and identifies you. It's on NCIS. I think it stands for Artificial Fingerprint Identification System, but I question the A. Anyway, review? Gah, the world **_**sucks ass! **_**TWWOO- prepare to get a rant. I have a lot to complain about… (; **

**-FrankandJoe3**


	6. Chapter 6

**I want KF/Rob to be real. I want the creators to put it in the show. Therefore, I suggest all the fangirls and fanboys get together for an uprising, or whatever. We need there to be more KF/Rob fan art, fanfiction, fan discussions, YouTube vids… whatever it takes! I WANT MY BROMANCE! *eye twitch* So yeah, up it up! We need to get YJ to the most popular category on fanfiction! I'm almost to 150 stories, and I'm trying to get one up a day, but there are 10,000 in South Park and Teen Titans is kicking our asses! Are we going to take this? NO! Let's fight back! KF/Rob forever! (Check Profile For More Info)**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Still. But I'll keep dreaming… *sigh***

**Wally's POV:**

I felt bad lying to Dick. I knew who Robin was. In fact, I knew everything there was to know about the Boy Wonder, but I didn't want to talk about it in front of Batman. It had been a horrible accident a while back and the legendary Dark Knight was more obsessed over it than any other fangirl that has ever existed. Bringing it up would only make matters even worse. And to make matters worse, Batman was acting like Dick had just shoved a pole up his ass. He was sour about_ everything _Dick did, even the way he fingerprinted himself.

I didn't get why though. Dick was scared sick, obviously trying to do everything right. He couldn't though. I didn't see anything wrong though. He looked like he was doing everything right, and then some. I wasn't Batman though, nor was I Robin, or a sidekick for that matter, so I couldn't tell if what Dick was doing was the right thing or not. The second Batman identified him, he jotted something down on a piece of paper, closed the screen down and shoved the slip into Dick's hand.

"Now get out," Batman growled, his voice desperately hiding the pain.

It sounded like Dick had just kicked him in the stomach and he was trying to sound like he didn't feel pain. Dick's lips hung open, clearly offended, but I knew that if we didn't get out of there, Batman would beat us both down with a chair or strangle us with our shoe laces. I grabbed his arm and tugged him after me. He followed along like a rag doll. It worried me a little. I waited until we were far from the Dark Knight and the green alien dude before I took the slip from his hands.

"'Richard John Grayson… 1215… Redman's… Victory Road'," I read slowly, squinting to read the heavy cursive.

I studied Dick's expression, hoping to see recognition again, but nothing showed. Dick just blinked lightly.

"Richard… Grayson?" his eyebrows furrowed and he frowned with a shrug.

I guess I didn't mind. I mean, Dick was pretty nice to me. He didn't make fun of me, he didn't try to hurt me; he was trying to be a friend… I think? I've never been good at figuring people out.

"That means you don't know where this address is, huh?" I sighed.

He hesitated. I saw something in his eyes. He looked at the cursive again.

"I think… is there a pizza shop anywhere near here?"

I grinned happily.

"Yeah! There's one not too far from here. It's a small place, but it's got good food. Uncle Barry used to take me," I winced at the last part, but I figured that since he didn't know me, it wouldn't matter anyway.

Dick smiled happily.

"How far?"

I drummed my fingers against my jeans in no particular pattern. I hummed in thought.

"Maybe two miles?" I shrugged.

His face fell.

"I could run us there," I offered.

He considered it, but shook his head.

"Nah, I don't mind the walk."

I smiled lightly starting the way. He followed. I could tell he had something on the edge of his tongue, but he was hesitant.

"Who's… Robin?" he asked finally, his voice shaking nervously.

I glanced his way curiously.

"Why do you think I know?" I tested.

"When I asked earlier, you got a look on your face. It looked like you knew a lot about Robin… and I want to know why everybody there thought I was him," Dick bit his lower lip gently.

It was pretty adorable, if I do say so. I set a hand to my neck.

"It's a depressing story," I warned lightly.

His eyes seemed to sparkle at the word 'story'.

"I-I don't mind," he admitted softly.

I nodded lightly, humming lightly again, putting the story together in my head before I told the story. I wanted to make it last a few blocks or so to keep conversation.

"Well… Robin is, er, _was_ Batman's sidekick about seven months ago. They were the 'Dynamic Duo', kicking some serious ass together. He was probably… eh, two years younger than me. One was never seen without the other until…" I stopped, looking both ways before crossing the street out of habit.

Dick looked up at me eagerly, paying no mind to the busy street.

"Until…?" he repeated carefully, cocking his head to the side curiously.

The stare he gave me wasn't creepy, but it wasn't exactly a look I could stand all day. Maybe for two hours, but definitely not a day. Then I remembered to continue.

"Oh yeah, sorry… where was I?" I blinked blankly.

"One was never seen without the other until…" Dick repeated back, practically bouncing in excitement.

I raised my eyebrows in surprise that he was actually listening, but I continued on anyway.

"Well, it was said that Robin and Batman got into a big fight. The next day, Batman showed up to the Hall alone. He was worried sick, on edge… all that junk. He spent every second looking for Robin. Then, an eye-witness came forward… I think he was Italian… He said that he saw Robin throw himself off the cliff to the east of town. Batman went down and found parts of Robin's costume in the rocks by the water. His body was never found."

Dick's eyes darkened in saddened.

"Then… why did Batman look so… happy to see me at first?" he asked slowly.

I checked the street sign, taking a left as the buildings grew older.

"Batman… he didn't trust the eye-witness. He believed that Robin would never willingly leave him. He's been waiting all this time. I can't believe he hasn't given up…"

Dick sighed lightly.

"Poor guy… I kind of wish I _was _Robin, you know? He looks like he needs to loosen up a little, maybe get a little bucket of rainbows or something?"

I couldn't help but notice that Dick moved closer to me the further we got into the ghetto part of town. I couldn't help but be bothered by the fact that I really didn't mind. He was… he kind of… well; he was like a walking sunshine. He kind of radiated warmth, or hidden sunshine, or whatever the sun gives off. It made me feel a little safer, if even that. This was a bad side of town.

"C-Can you r-run us now?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

The worst part was he was so close that I could hear his whisper perfectly. I nodded, gracious that he had gotten the nerve to ask. I knelt down, glancing back at him. He looked around shakily, wrapping his arms around my neck cautiously. I stood up, securing him in place, taking off down the stretch of concrete. I hated this part of town. The ghetto wasn't my part of town. As much as I called myself an O.G., I was as gangster as a banana. I don't think bananas are very original, or gangster for that matter.

"Since when did pizza shops live in the ghetto?" Dick asked, resting his head on my shoulder, watching the road.

He held his left wrist with his right hand, a human seatbelt of a sort, which was pretty smart. Too bad a seatbelt wasn't as affective as a helmet. Along with having no safety or respect for the law, the ghetto also lacked even sidewalks. When you're going somewhere near 80 miles per hour, the last thing you're watching is the sidewalk. That's why I missed the step and we both kind of flew. It wasn't slow motion like it was in the movie. It was fast, and it freaking hurt. _–Yeah, I know it didn't 'freaking' hurt! If I said the f word though, we'd get yelled at.-_ I didn't feel it though. I was worried about Dick with the cut up stomach and amnesia.

I sat up quickly, wincing as I did, looking up at him fearfully. He had the same idea. He was holding himself up on his left forearm, his right arm bent and shaking as he tried to get back up, his eyes meeting mine.

"D-Dick..! I'm sorry," I quickly apologized, getting to my feet shakily.

His eyes widened, at least until I held out my hand to help him up. He gave me his right hand and I helped him. His knees almost caved, so I let him hold my arm so he could stand properly.

"If you were hungry, we could've stopped at the pizza shop. You didn't have to eat the sidewalk," he teased, laughing weakly.

I grinned lightly. At least he didn't have a concussion.

"Sorry, the sidewalk just looked so tasty… couldn't restrain myself."

I looked down at my knees and winced. My jeans were torn up something awful and blood was coming from the frays. It wasn't that bad though. Then I looked Dick up and down as he still clung to my arm, his knees weak. He looked more banged up then I did. His jeans were seriously jacked. The blood on his shirt was definitely more noticeable now and he had some scrapes on his face. Curiously, I set a hand to both sides of my face. I pulled my hand away only to see every ridge and line clearly defined by a dark scarlet. I sighed, cursing beneath my breath.

"Really sorry about that," I apologized, my stomach twisting in guilt as I saw how pained he looked.

He smiled weakly, gritting his teeth roughly. He screwed up his eyes, lightly digging his nails into his arm.

"Not… your fault," he said slowly.

My heart broke in my chest. Now I felt awful.

"Hey, it's the West kid and his suicidal friend!" a familiar voice called our way.

My eyes widened. It was senior Hulk and Mr. Wannabe. Great. I looked Dick's way. He was still holding tight. There was no way he could run off and I doubted I could carry him. My own knees ached as it was.

"Leave me. It's you they want," Dick half demanded, pain coating his face hard.

I didn't have time to. Mr. Wannabe got close and shoved me down first, kicking Dick back next. I let out a cry as my head struck the sidewalk again. Then I felt him grab the locket. My eyes swelled and I forgot I was in pain. I sprung up and punched him as hard as I could. It knocked him down, but it just seemed to piss of the white trash version of the Hulk. He walked to me and ripped the locket from my neck, causing me to cry in pain. I don't know if you've ever had a necklace ripped off that has a clasp, but it _hurts_.

"Wally!" Dick's voice was weaker than before.

I bit my lip harder, attempting to get the locket back, but the hunk of meat kicked me back, knocking me against the wall of one of the shops. I felt so weak as I cried out in pain again, but it stung! As I hit the concrete hard, I couldn't mask a whimper of pain.

"This is it boss," the Hulk laughed dryly, helping his boss up.

The Latino looked at _my _locket and held it in his grubby hands. I felt anger bubble up inside me. I was helpless though.

"See ya kid. Thanks for the gift!" the Latino giggled maniacally.

If blood could boil, I was being cooked alive. I yelled in anger, but there were no real words in the yell. It was just a frustrated cry. I stopped when I felt a finger poke my shoulder curiously. I looked up to see Dick looking down at me, determination tied in with the pain on his face.

"Are you going to take that?" he asked between gritted teeth.

I raised an eyebrow, laying uselessly on the sidewalk.

"T-Take what?" I asked, screwing my eyes up.

"He took your… necklace thingy… Come on, you obviously like that thing! They're just…" he froze, putting his arm over his mouth and coughing hard. "Filth… we have to… stop them…"

My eyes widened when I noticed the blood dripping down his elbow from where his lips had been.

"Dick… y-you're hurt…" I whispered softly.

He rolled his blue eyes, helping me to my feet even more weakly than before.

"Don't ask how, but I got some stuff from Batman's utility belt when I got mad at him… W-we're tracking them… We can… get your necklace back… and we have an… excuse to visit Batman again."

I blinked lightly, staring at the blood on his arm unsteadily. Then I slipped his arm over my shoulders so I could help him walk, holding to his wrist in case he decided to pull a stringless puppet on me and collapse.

"Dude, you've got some serious balls of steel," I commented lightly, wincing with every step.

He smiled slyly, and for some odd reason, I was reminded of the address we needed to get to. 

"What about your home?" I asked cautiously.

His eyes met mine curiously, keeping in step with me.

"They've waited for… this… long. They can wait a while longer."

**Okay, done. Sorry if it's late. I'm sick. Can't think. I wish I could pee rainbows (: That'd be fun… Maybe then I'd have unicorns living in my bathroom! Then, I could ask them where they come from! Sweet gummibears- I'm losing it… I'm going to become a Bailey… and then Chris will hate me! *AGH! HEAD SMASH* DON'T LOOK AT ME! I'M A FREAKIN FAILURE! I mean, some of my stuff is good… I'm not **_**that **_**bad but… screw it, I suck. My friends hate me… Well, Abby and Bailey like me… and Bri seems to, same with Becca… CHEYENNE CAN GO F HERSELF… *dramatic sobs* **

**And to all the Christians- you're Jesus can walk on water, right? Humans are 75% water. Does that mean if I walk on humans that I'm 75% Jesus to you guys? (; Gotta love the internet~ **

**-FrankandJoe3**


	7. Chapter 7

**So… Bailey and Noah convinced me to kiss him. I went to, he turned his head, he hates me now. I am officially emo… *heartbroken sob* Do you know what it feels like to know that you **_**knew **_**what you were going to do was wrong, but you did it anyway? IT SUCKS! IT SUCKS! *broken whimper* I ruined everything between us… DAMNIT! **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but this bloody freakin' useless broken heart… **

**Dick's POV:**

Wally was being under-dramatic. We got roughed up pretty bad by the two jerk-offs _– shut up, I can call them whatever I want! My chapter!- _and it was a wonder we even managed to stand up. Wally was in a worse state then I was. He had huge scrapes over his front side, seeing that he was the one that actually hit the concrete. He was kind of like my human shield, protecting me from the ground. I mean, sure, I got hurt too, but my injuries had already been there so I had no room to complain, or however you'd say that.

He had a huge cut down his right cheek that was bleeding pretty bad and a huge almost burn-like bruise on the other side that looked like it stung. His jeans were bleeding pretty bad and he had a huge hole on the front of his shirt that showed his stomach and how cut up it was. _–No, I'm not going to compliment your stomach. If I did that, you'd hit me- _I was actually surprised that he was able to help _me _walk! I was glad he did though. The Incredible Bulk kicked me pretty hard and I felt like I was made of Jell-O; delicious but very unstable. Ha, just kidding on the delicious part, but seriously… crap, where was I? Uh… oh yeah, Wally's in pain... Sorry about that.

It took forever, but Wally and I managed to limp our way back to the Hall of Justice and up the huge set of stairs. If he hadn't held my hand _–no, you held my hand, not my wrist. Now quit interrupting-, _I definitely wouldn't have even made it off of the concrete. When we stumbled into the lobby, I noticed the green thing staring at us. I stared back. Wally stopped us in the doorway, only after that strange voice projected Robin's name through the room, only to flip the alien off with a weak frown, before helping us back into the living room area. Batman was just entering the room as we did.

"What do you-?" he started to growl, but the anger faded to what seemed to be fear, "What happened?"

Wally gestured for me to move to the arm chair not to far from me. I let go of his hand and took a step towards it, only for my legs to buckle beneath me. Wally caught me before I fell though. Batman seemed to get only more fearful at that. As Wally tried to help me up, I was ashamed when I couldn't hold back a whimper of pain. My stomach felt like there was a horse with shoes made of needles stomping all over it. In other words, it _really _hurt. I managed to sit down though, so that part was good. Then I watched Wally, making sure that he sat down okay before I turned to the matter at hand. I looked over at Batman.

"Rob- er, Dick," he corrected himself, shaking his head at the mistake, "What happened? You both were fine a few minutes ago!"

"What do you care?" I replied simply, hugging my stomach painfully. "I thought you wanted us gone."

Batman bit his lip furiously, but he kept whatever he was going to say to himself and swallowed hard.

"You came back. You're injured. It is my job as a superhero to care for the public," he said slowly in that insanely deep gravelly voice of his. "Now, I'm not going to ask again. What happened?"

I didn't buy a second of his nice act. He was obviously really mad at us, but I couldn't care less. The angrier he got, the more powerful I felt.

"The address you sent us to required us to pass through the ghetto where we got attacked by two men. One took Wally's locket and we need it back," I screwed up my eyes in pain, hissing in pain.

It really hurt to talk, for some odd reason, but I needed to keep going. I'm assuming from the silence that caught Batman's attention.

"Can you describe them?" he probed lightly.

I thought about them, not having to close my eyes seeing that they were already practically sealed closed, before speaking.

"One of them was 6'4", bald, bulky muscles, probably on steroids, one orange eye, one red squinted eye, a jutting chin, uneven teeth, Caucasian and he seemed like he had fangs. The other was Latino, maybe 5'8", dark green eyes, a small white scar on his chin, really scrawny and skinny. They both probably have records… and if you can follow the trackers in your utility belt on the computer, you'll be able to find the Incredible Bulk in seconds," I hoped that was all he needed to know to track down these jerks because that was all I could remember.

Batman actually seemed impressed before he actually registered everything I said. He stopped and opened the pouch two over from the edge of the bat's wing on his chest, the one that I had somehow known held tracking devices, only to jump in surprise when he noticed he was missing one. He glared at me, but for some reason, I saw pride in his eyes. Was he proud? No, that was probably just the pain talking. I had to close my eyes again, losing sight of Wally's worried glances, as I listened to Batman hesitate.

"Usually Robin would be the one to consult for this…" he mumbled mostly to himself, his voice broken.

I don't think that he knew I could hear him.

"I… I'll be back," he excused himself.

I heard him walk off before I heard footsteps get louder as someone got closer to me. Warm hands set themselves on my right arm, gently and carefully. I didn't have to open my eyes to know that it had to be Wally. It hadn't even been an hour from the feel of it and I already considered him a friend. Pathetic, right? I should've told him to go away because it was weird, but I felt even safer when I felt the worry in the touch.

"Dick, are you okay?" he asked lightly.

I couldn't hide much longer from him, so I figured it wouldn't hurt anymore then it already did to tell him the truth. I shook my head madly.

"It hurts," I whispered, shuddering as a wave of nausea rode me like a bucking bronco.

His grip softened, but he didn't let go.

"You don't have to help me. I'll ask Batman to take you to the hospital and I'll get the locket back myself. I don't want you to kill yourself just trying to help someone as worthless as me," he sounded dejected just before one of his hands left my arm.

I tensed up as his hand touched to my forehead, but it only lasted long enough to brush some strands back to their rightful side.

"You… aren't worthless," I said through gritted teeth.

The horse had just turned into an elephant. It was harder to pretend to be in lesser pain then I was, if that makes sense. I wanted to curl into a ball and scream, but I didn't want to worry Wally any more than he already was. I heard him give off a hybrid of a shudder and a sigh before I felt hair tickle my arm. I figured he was resting his head on his hands.

"Yeah, I'm not worthless. I'm pathetic, stupid, moronic… take your pick," he sounded broken now, his hold on me tightening yet again.

Like I said earlier though, his hands were warm so I really didn't care. I didn't like hearing him trash himself though.

"You're… perfect… the way you… are," I managed to say slowly without hurting myself.

"Perfect my ass!" he cried. "You got hurt because I was stupid enough to trip! You're in pain, you have no memory and you could be home with your folks in perfect condition if it weren't for me!"

I groaned lightly, tightening my hold on my stomach. Maybe I should've agreed to let Batman take me to the hospital. I forced my eyes open though, locking eyes with him.

"Wally… stop it. You're amazing… and don't tell yourself… anything else… Without you, I'd… still be on the beach… scared shitless," I forced a smile.

Wally still didn't seem convinced though. I closed my eyes again, moaning behind my lips. It burnt now. I wanted to go to the hospital. I wanted to get out of there. I also wanted to help Wally though. I bit as hard as I could down on my lower lip and slowly got to my feet, my eyes still closed, only to fall to my knees. Wally wrapped his arms around me to stop me from falling on my face.

"Dude, I'm getting you to the hospital. Let Batman do his job. Come on," Wally tried to get me to stand up, but I couldn't.

I couldn't even keep my eyes open. How did he expect me to stand up? Dumbass. _–Hey! Yeah… I deserved that…- _Then I heard Batman walk into the room.

"Oh my G- what… Is he okay?" his 'tough guy' voice faltered into a scarred and worried voice.

"We need to get him to a hospital, fast," I heard Wally say, sounding just as worried.

Then, I couldn't hold back a scream. I muffled it, but it hurt. Everything hurt. I felt like a disconnected my small intestine.

"Dick!" Batman and Wally cried in unison.

Before I passed out in my new friend's arms, I couldn't help but feel just the slightest bit loved. It was a nice feeling.

**DAMNIT! AGH! *snaps computer* AHHHH! Yo, Oz- expect a message fast. I'm about to kill puppies and babies up in here. Sorry it's late, I was at Harvester's last night helping the homeless by sorting onions… Blech. **

**-**_**F**_**orlorn in **_**J**_**udgment**


	8. Chapter 8

**Alright… I officially love wearing dresses for one reason and one reason alone: NO. PANTS. I feel so free and loose and exposed (: I feel like a Boss. I mean, being seen is embarrassing but I feel sorta pretty… until I look in the mirror… Eh, but I'm a girl, so I'm expected to be self-conscious. I'm not expected to be thin though. I'm expected to be happy, and I'm failing even at that. *sigh* The life of a fangirl is a boring one… **

**Disclaimer: … Nothing's changed… Except for the fact that I **_**love **_**corn pops. *Nom!* **

**Wally's POV: **

Have you ever seen one of those sad anti-animal abuse commercials with that depressing 'In the Arms of the Angels' song? If you have, you side with me when I say that those things are evil. They show pictures of sad and injured animals that make you either want to break down sobbing, run to an animal shelter and adopt them all or go and shoot the heartless monsters that actually took the time to make that commercial. I used to try to remember where dad had hidden the guns when it came on at home, but… Anyway, the point is, that's how Dick looked.

He was laying in the hospital bed deep down in Mt. Justice- I'll get to that in a minute- looking as weak and heartbreaking as the poor abused animals in those commercials. His face was scraped up pretty bad, still bleeding lightly. His pale lips were parted lightly, two barely separated cuts on the center of them, probably from his front teeth. He seemed like the type that would bite his lip when he got nervous… His eyes were just barely closed and I couldn't help but notice his girlish eyelashes. It was kinda cute.

I don't know why either, but for whatever reason, Dick's shirt was off and he was all bandaged up. Okay, now I comment on his chest. _–STFU man! I can comment on your chest if I want to!- _Anyway… he was buff. Big time. Like, six pack buff. And he was covered in old scars. There had to be at least a dozen, and I could only see the half of his chest that wasn't wrapped in bandages. Some looked like stab wounds, others looked like he got mad and dragged a blade against his chest to keep from losing it. He had some deep bruises too that looked pretty recent.

It wasn't just his chest that was all banged up either. His arms were jacked something awful too. There was one black and bluish bruise on his right shoulder about the size of my fist. I've been told I have big hands, so that should say something. There were minor cuts and scrapes here and there, up until his hands. The pale digits exposed above the white sheets had red scars that hinted something strong at self-abuse. I don't mean weight lifter strong either. I'm talking "_Douche in the Locker Room Who Doesn't Know How Bad His Axe Smells So He Sprays at Least Two Bottles of it_**[1]**" strong. If you haven't smelt that, I seriously don't recommend it.

Okay, now I get talk about Mt. Justice. First off, _holy crap. _Turns out, the little viewing living room really is just for show! The second my little Dicky boy –shut up, we had been talking for two hours! I've made girlfriends in two minutes. I can nickname you if I feel like it- passed out, Batman shifted into Super Daddy mode and dragged him behind him super fast into the back room where we teleported. Dude! Teleporting is KICK ASS. It's like being on anesthesia at the dentist. You feel like you're stomach is rising up to your head and your skin starts to kind of prickle. It's like when you're about to puke so you're standing dead still to keep from upsetting your stomach anymore, except I didn't feel like I needed to puke, if that makes sense.

When we got into the actual Mt. Justice, consider my mind blown. When I finally recovered from the puke feeling, Batman dragged Dick across the room, holding the ebony almost bridal style. I hesitated, taking in the room. We walked in through some huge metal portal. Our skin was gold. It was kind of like that one moment when you're watching X-Men Evolution and your mom calls you downstairs so you hit pause right as Kurt is teleporting and you see that he's just a golden yellow silhouette… not that I used to watch that or anything… The floor had a special designed section, probably for training, that looked like it was connected to the computers.

Then, after being practically glare dragged by Batman, we entered the infirmary. It was a mini hospital, minus the hot receptionist and the annoying little 3 year old boy who was screaming and beating you down with his little fire truck while his mom was standing outside, smoking a cigarette. Okay, you're caught up. I don't want to describe the infirmary because hospitals give me the creeps, big time. Batman had run off, muttering something about medicine and Man-hunters, but I could hear him coming back. When I saw him, I knew that now would be a completely appropriate time to shit myself. I didn't though, even though the small gateway to Hell that I saw in his eyes made me greatly consider it.

"Alright, knock the shit ginger. My boy is hurt and I've had it. Why is my boy hurt?" Batman grabbed Wally by the front of his shirt, lifting him in the air and pressing him to the wall, the growl in his voice full of total homicide.

My eyes were probably the side of Texas and I'm pretty sure I screamed. Just a little scream, but it was a scream nonetheless. Now I didn't feel the need to shit myself. I was completely scared shitless.

"Y-Your boy?" I think I managed to squeak out, screwing my eyes up and wishing I could disappear into the wall like a molecule or something like that. It's hard to think when your mind is on your suddenly shit free bowels.

The gateway widened a bit and I forgot how to breathe for the longest time.

"Two random bad guys wouldn't attack two innocent kids for no reason! Why did they hurt him?" Batman roared.

I struggled to find words.

"W-Why d-d-do you c-care?" I stuttered fast.

I hadn't meant to say it, but it was true. Earlier, he hadn't really given two shits about us. Actually, he hadn't even given one shit about us, let alone half of one. He wouldn't even have given a piss for us if we're getting that technical.

"Don't be an idiot! You and I both know who 'Dick' really is! How did you find him, why is he pretending like he doesn't remember me and why is he unconscious?"

I couldn't meet his eyes. I was afraid if I did, I'd catch fire and find myself in a morgue somewhere, surrounded by baffled medical examiners who couldn't identify my charred remains. And to be honest, I had no idea what Batman was screaming at me for. I might've been able to answer him better if he hadn't been choking me… just a thought… I hoped he would take a hint from my probably purple face and my choking noises, but maybe the Dark Knight was darkened only by bluntness, if that makes sense? –Yes, I'm calling him blunt! What's so bad about it? … Yeah, it could be interpreted sexually. Would you rather me say he was good in bed last night? Oh quit blushing you pussy. I was referring to the stupid kind of blunt-

"I-I-I don't k-know what y-y-you're talking a-about!" I cried, struggling to regain regular breathing patterns again.

I don't know how, but I finally managed to meet eyes with Batman. I don't know if he finally got the hint by looking at my eyes or if his arm just got tired, but he let go of my shirt and I fell roughly to the floor, grunting in pain. It really hurt, but I tried to keep mildly sane in appearance, gasping for breath. Batman turned away from me, his cape fluttering behind him all importantly. He was looking at Dick as if the boy was his Black Pearl and he was Jack Sparrow, and his ship had just been taken from him. He longed for the ship, but it wasn't his to long for anymore.

"Where did you really find him?" Batman's voice was slow and careful, as if I was a stupid preschooler.

I couldn't think of a reason that he'd doubt what we originally said. The only reason I could think of that would cause doubt would be if he had looked me up on the computer. He's probably like every other American who figures if some innocent kid has bad folks that by default, they have to be bad too. It wouldn't surprise me in the slightest.

"I… I was down at the beach… he was laying in the sand, his stomach all cut up and unconscious. When he woke up, he was scared out of his mind… he didn't have any idea about anything. He wasn't even sure of his name! I was going to take him to the hospital b-but…" my voice shook so bad that I just got too lazy to add all the dashes and extra letters.

"Why didn't you? He was hurt!" my stomach stung.

I was slowly losing feeling in my fingers and I felt like I was lying in a freezer.

"W-We were attacked by the two guys Dick mentioned earlier! I ran us off and went to take him to one. He told me he was fine and he refused to go to the hospital… So I figured… I shouldn't make him since I didn't know him…" I prayed that he could understand me.

He seemed to, but he still didn't seem happy about it. He fell silent.

"You and I both know who 'Dick' really is!" his words went through my head again, making me wonder.

"What'd you mean earlier?" I forced my voice to be steady.

He looked my way and the steadiness faltered.

"You said… 'you and I both know who Dick really is'… who is he?"

Batman looked away again. I finally understood why all of the other heroes had a thing against him. I didn't really expect him to reply though. I mean, I was just a normal pedestrian or whatever. I shouldn't even have been in there, let alone talking to him! He did reply though. I didn't like his answer though.

"Are you really that stupid? You actually think that the computers here can lie?" he said darkly, his eyes locked on Dick.

It took me a moment. –Shut up! How was I supposed to relate the creepy woman voice to a computer?- When I finally understood, I felt like face-palming. The computerized voice that had recognized Dick when he had walked into the Hall had called him Robin. The computer never lied. It took a lot of willpower to keep from fangirl squealing. I, Wally West, had worked with, walked with and talked with and protected the one and only Boy Wonder! That was one of my top numbers on my bucket list! I still felt pretty stupid though, so I kind of frowned and bowed my head, not bothering to get up off the ground. I was still doubtful though. Robin was supposed to be shy, serious and all ninja- stealth like.

"H-He's… Robin?" I asked slowly, glancing lightly at the hurt figure on the hospital bed above me.

Batman didn't answer, so I thought about it. It did kind of make sense. They both had the same messy black hair, both were pretty buff… I think I heard Dick's giggle; it was soft, but it was definitely similar to that of Robin. And that little smirk of his was an exact copy to his too… It did make sense. Robin was dead though! Why did I find him on the beach in civvies? Wasn't he supposed to be in the ocean… dead? The witness had claimed he saw Robin jump, not some kid in street clothes! You can't blame me for being skeptical. It just didn't add up, or subtract up, or multiply or divide up or square root up or power up or any of those stupid mathematical terms. I don't really care how you put it. Dick couldn't be Robin and that was that.

"I looked you up, West," Batman snapped me from my thoughts. "You live down in Rhode Island. What are you doing up here in New York?"

I tensed up. I didn't want to lie to Batman, but I didn't want to say the truth because I wanted to stay here with Dick. For some reason, I couldn't help but feel like he needed me here… And I didn't want to go home to my mom, but I don't want to talk about that. Not now, not ever.

"I'm down here visiting Uncle Barry," I lied as professionally as I could manage on short notice.

Uncle Barry lived in Rhode Island too, but I figured that Batman wouldn't check. Who would bother? I'm just one guy after all. I'm not that important.

"Your uncle doesn't live here either. I know him personally."

Batman's words stopped me cold. I was caught. Crap. Now what? Why hadn't I just told the truth?

"I get it. It's been hard since your dad-," as much as I loved the thought of being comforted, I didn't want to talk about 'Daddy Dearest'.

"No offense… sir… but this isn't my favorite topic. I don't need to be comforted. Is Dick going to be okay or not?" it was nice to see him look surprised for once.

His eyes dropped back to the bare chested ebony and a light frown flitted over his exposed lips.

"I… Yeah, he'll be fine. As for the men who attacked you… Can you walk and talk?"

He gestured for me to follow him from the room. I followed, scared three times past the halfway mark to death that he'd slit my throat for harming who he believed to be his deceased sidekick back from the grave. He didn't seem to want to hurt me though. Actually, he just took me to the portal room. When we got there, he swiped his hand through the air and a square keyboard appeared at his fingertips. My mind was blown, my jaw dropping to let out the ashes of what had once been my mind escape. That wasn't even the best part, but seriously! A floating wireless keyboard! How is that not amazing?

Then, a huge screen came into the air. It was soon followed by a bunch of other screens before pictures of "The Incredible Bulk" and "Captain Wannabe" as I had deemed them covered the screens. On the big screen, it had their mug shots. The other screens had pictures that looked like they had been taken when the two baddies hadn't been suspecting.

"The muscle head's name is John Macrander. He was arrested for four murders and molestation of their corpses. The Latino's name is Tyler Wilcox. He was arrested for robbing two banks, three gas stations and for hotwiring and stealing a car. They broke out of prison a month ago," Batman briefed me.

I nearly died. I was getting a briefing from the one and only Batman. If I was alone, I would've screamed until my lungs bled. I wasn't alone though, so I just kept my screams on the inside.

"Why did they attack us?" I tried not to sound as excited as I was.

Batman typed again and Tyler and John disappeared.

"While you were busy thinking, I did some research."

To my surprise, my face showed up on the screen. It was a pretty bad picture too. I winced, looking down. He kept typing though, so I kept watching. My face was gone, replaced by one face I didn't want to see. I turned around so I definitely couldn't see the picture.

"Dick mentioned that they took your locket. Would it happen to be a golden locket, pure gold, pretty heavy, emerald lining, picture of you and your daddy on the inside?"

I froze. That was it. That was my locket.

"H-how…?" I began.

"I'm the goddamned Batman," he almost seemed to smirk. "Point is, I can stop them and get your necklace back to you."

I blinked lightly, unsure of what exactly I needed to say to that. My mind was still on the little ebony in the hospital bed back in the infirmary.

"What's the catch?" I asked finally.

Batman's smirk softened to a surprised smile.

"Clever boy… maybe your uncle has a point… If you want that necklace of yours back… this is going to sound rather strange… but when Dick gets better, take him home safe?"

I hesitated. I understood that Batman was convinced that Dick was Robin, but this was heartbreaking. He was almost obsessed. Even now, I don't know whether to 'aw' and smile or to back away slowly, my eyes wide. It was an easy job though, and I personally wanted to take Dick home and give him my phone number or something so we could stay close, so I was more than happy to help.

"O-Of course!" I nodded.

He stopped, looking me over. It was as if he had selected me to be the meal of honor for the Queen and was suddenly regretting it. He shook it off though.

"I have to go check in with the others. Can I trust you to protect him while I'm gone?"

I nodded slowly. He didn't hesitate to fly far from me in an instant. I watched him until he was completely gone from sight. I waited even a little after that before I finally released the little scream I had been holding.

**1] Yes, Tanner Lowrey. I'm talking about you. Take a hint. All the guys bolt from the locker room coughing and hacking, their shirts over their breathing orifices after you spray up. That's how bad it is.**

**Okay, yeah, overprotective Daddy Bats. Whatever. I'm tired. Review if you want. If you don't want to review the story, then just answer this: ****Vegetarians think meat is morally wrong and murder. Do you agree with this statement? **

**-F.J.**


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